


one on death row, one in the audience

by pitoumugis



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: F/F, Vague Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 03:15:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14416482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pitoumugis/pseuds/pitoumugis
Summary: “I think I miss the rain the most.”“The rain?” Kirumi tilts her head. “What brought this on?”Tsumugi folds her hands in front of her and stays silent for a while. Kirumi looks up at the sky with her. The cage that covers the whole school remains standing, no matter how many times they wish it to disappear. It looms, mockingly, frustratingly, over the academy.“I just like to watch it fall, you know?” Tsumugi finally says, her voice hardly above a whisper, like she’s confessing a secret. What secret, Kirumi isn’t quite sure.Kirumi turns away from the sky and back to the cosplayer beside her. “Maybe it’ll rain soon.” She suggests."Maybe,"---Kirumi spends some time with Tsumugi before she puts her plan into action.





	one on death row, one in the audience

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this at 4am and now my friends wanna kill me :/

It was like a burst of electricity.

Her hands let go of the Kubs Pad like it was fire and flew to her head as it ached, screaming with memories she’d forgot, should have never forgot.

Her people, her citizens, her duty to her country—

Kirumi’s blood turned to ice as her heart dropped. How could she forget? How could she? Her mind ran wild with worry and panic—An unfortunate event will soon befall all those vermin and sheeple, the video had said, Monokuma’s voice mocking her through the tablet. Oh god, her people, her country. What had happened to them? To the world?

Surely they were fine. Surely Monokuma didn’t have the kind of power to hurt all of Japan.

Would she be willing to take that risk?

Kirumi collapses to the floor, a gloved hand on her chest over her rapidly beating heart.

She already knew the answer. She didn’t have to think about it.

Of course not, of course not, of course not.

Because she’s Toujou Kirumi, the Ultimate Maid, prime minister of Japan, and she has a duty to protect her citizens. Her most important people.

She’s already made her decision.

She has to escape this academy.

_For everyone’s sake._

 

* * *

 

  
“I think I miss the rain the most.”

Kirumi turns to see Tsumugi standing outside the entrance hall, staring up into the sky.

“The rain?” Kirumi tilts her head. “What brought this on?”

Tsumugi folds her hands in front of her and stays silent for a while. Kirumi looks up at the sky with her. The cage that covers the whole school remains standing, no matter how many times they wish it to disappear. It looms, mockingly, frustratingly, over the academy.

“I just like to watch it fall, you know?” Tsumugi finally says, her voice hardly above a whisper, like she’s confessing a secret. What secret, Kirumi isn’t quite sure.

Kirumi turns away from the sky and back to the cosplayer beside her. “Maybe it’ll rain soon.” She suggests.

Tsumugi finally drops her gaze and looks at Kirumi, but the far away look in her eyes remains.

“Maybe,” Tsumugi smiles and tucks a strand of pretty blue hair behind her ear.

_Even if you don’t live to see it._

Kirumi smiles back.

 

* * *

 

  
Time passes as the clock ticks down. Kirumi finds herself spending her free time with the cosplayer more than before.

“Let me help, will you?” Tsumugi takes up a plate and rag and begins drying the dishes as Kirumi washes them.

“It’s quite alright,” Kirumi tells her, wet hand raised to stop her. “I am a maid, after all.”

Tsumugi giggles, like she’d been told something funny. “Toujou-san, we’re friends, aren’t we?” She turns to her with a smile crinkling her blue eyes. “So let me help.” She puts the dry plate into its proper place in the cupboard. “It seems to be the only way I can spend time with you, after all.”

Kirumi raises an eyebrow. “You wish to spend time with me?”

Tsumugi turns to her with a matching expression. “Of course?”

Kirumi looks away, back to the sink, staring into the soapy water. “I... see.” She pulls her hands away from the water and turns her full attention to Tsumugi. “Shall I prepare you some tea then?”

Tsumugi shakes her head. “No, I just want to be with you for a while. It doesn’t matter what we do.” She says.

Kirumi blinks, and something in her chest aches.

“Shirogane-san?”

Tsumugi laughs sheepishly and waves her hand. “Sorry, I’m... I’ve just been plain on edge lately, what with all the mixed up motive videos,”

A scowl flickers across Kirumi’s face as she remembers the video. “Of course...”

“Of course,” Tsumugi plays a strand of her hair. “I think you’re really great, so I like being with you. If something happens then... Then I’d like to spend some more time with you,” she says, smiling at Kirumi like she knows something Kirumi doesn’t.

But Kirumi’s heart skips. She nods slowly. “Alright, then... if you don’t mind, I’ll continue the dishes.”

“I’ll dry them for you,” Tsumugi cheerfully picks up a bowl and brings the cloth to it.

“If... you insist.”

They work together for a while, in a peaceful silence. Kirumi would wash the dishes, then hand them off to Tsumugi, who would dry and put them away. The silence gives Kirumi time to think—about her motive video, about her decision. Her plan...

“Toujou-san,” Tsumugi calls suddenly, bringing the maid out of her thoughts. “Do you think, in some other time, we might’ve been something more?” She whispers.

Kirumi looks up at the cosplayer. “Shirogane-san?”

Tsumugi stares into the bowl she’s holding, her eyes glazed over like her mind is elsewhere. After a moment of silence, she snaps out of it and looks up at Kirumi. “Oh, nothing, I was just plainly thinking out loud.”

Kirumi says nothing as Tsumugi puts the bowl away and picks up a knife to dry.

“Toujou-san, would you like to hear about my favorite anime?” Tsumugi asks.

Unable to shake off the serious mood, Kirumi can barely register herself speaking. “Of... Of course, Shirogane-san. I’d love to.”

Tsumugi smiles. It’s a solemn smile, Kirumi realizes, and she feels like she’s failed something, a test she didn’t know she was taking, but the maid doesn’t call it out and Tsumugi goes on to describe some anime she’s never heard of, a passion lighting in her eyes as she rambles.

And even after Tsumugi bids her farewell, she can’t shake the feeling that she’s missed something important.

 

* * *

 

The clock runs out the night before Himiko’s magic show. Kirumi has everything prepared. The lid of the piranha tank is laid diagonally in the tank, pushing the fish aside. The gym window is open and the rope is tied to the sill tight and thrown out the other side into the pool, which, honestly, looks more like a resort than a school pool.

Her plan, all her preparation comes to life when she grabs the unconscious, handcuffed Ryoma by the collar of his jacket and shoves his head under the water. He wakes quickly, and immediately begins to struggle against her, only resulting in scuffing his handcuffs against the sink, leaving scratches on both the sink and the cuffs.

 _Stop, please stop_ , she thinks desperately, watching him fumble pathetically, uselessly against her grip. _Please, just die already_ —  
  
An eternity later, he finally stops struggling. Kirumi drops him on the shower room floor and stumbles back, her breathing uneven and her heart hammering in her chest. She stares at the boy on the floor, watching, waiting for him to spring up. Waiting for his eyes to snap open, for him to cough up the water and tell her she still has a long way to go with a scratchy voice.

He doesn’t.

She killed him.

Oh, god, she killed him.

There really is no going back. Not now. Not anymore.

She had to, Kirumi tells herself. She had to. It was the only way. Because no matter what, she has to escape this place. She repeats this as she throws herself into her plan.

As Kirumi places his wet corpse into the divided piranha tank, she thinks of tomorrow, the magic show where his body will be revealed and then promptly devoured. She thinks of her classmates. If she wins the class trial, she’ll have killed them too.

She thinks of Tsumugi, and her pretty blue hair, like the sky that’s been locked away from them. She remembers how the cosplayer’s eyes had lit up as she spoke of her passion, told stories of conventions and photo shoots. How she smiled at Kirumi and said she wanted to spend time with her.

Kirumi would miss her the most, she thinks.

And then she’s running, running for life because her perfect murder wasn’t so perfect and now she’s going to be executed and all she can do is _run_ , throw away all her dignity and pride and claw _desperately_ at life as she lets out a primal scream, tearing her way down the halls.

There’s people closing in on her—People? It’s hard to see as they shove signs in her face, and she finds herself completely surrounded until a thorn covered vine falls in front of her, and her eyes snap up.

A way out. Her escape.

She grasps the vine, wincing in pain as the thorns dig into the palm of her hands, and she begins to climb. She pulls herself up, not stopping even when her hands begin to bleed, dripping down her wrists and staining her white sleeves. She doesn’t stop, not for a second, for if she did it would be her end.

A metallic sound catches her attention and she looks up in horror as spinning blades protrude from the wall. They start, stutter, then begin spinning wildly, sparks lighting up the dark tunnel. If Monokuma thinks this will stop her, then he is sorely mistaken.

Her eyes harden, and she keeps climbing, even as the metal blades cut into her, snipping her clothes to bloody shreds. She keeps climbing and climbing—she has to escape. For her people. For her country. For her—

Ah, the exit.

Exhausted, barely holding onto the vine as her body feels ready to give out, she reaches a bloody hand out to the sky, out to her freedom, as the warm rays of sun are cast upon her worn face. It’s hope, she thinks dizzily, _this is hope_.

And her hand presses against cold, hard stone, and the sky fades to a crayon drawing, the warm sun disappearing from her eyes, and all that’s left in the wake of hope is despair. The nausea and dizziness from the blood loss suddenly disappear and in a horrible moment of clarity she watches the vine she holds onto so desperately snap.

For a moment, Tsumugi comes to mind. The far away look in her eyes. Her knowing smile. A soft, innocent voice flutters to Kirumi’s ears.

_I just like to watch it fall, you know?_

And Kirumi falls.


End file.
